When You Said 'No' I Knew it Meant Yes
by Kaitou Kunoichi
Summary: A one-shot revealing one nation's dirty little secret,


"I-Ivan…" stuttered the nation as his face first flushed itself of all color, then proceeded to turn a deep shade of red. Toris would have dove across the room retrieve the damp towel that was draped over his bed and cover himself, but the embarrassment and terror had too tight a grip on him. So he stood stark naked in the middle of his room, Ivan peeking in the doorway with a devious glint in his eye.

"You just got out of the shower?" Ivan asked with an innocent smile as he let himself in, closing the door behind him. Toris noted the faint click of the lock in the otherwise silent room.

"What do you want?" he asked, gulping back the lump in his throat. He shuffled backwards as Ivan casually took a few steps forwards, and found himself with his back against the wall. "Can you wait until I'm dressed?"

"I didn't want to sleep alone tonight." Ivan's voice was deceivingly soft. Toris watched as the larger nation slipped off his long coat, one sleeve at a time, and hung it on the hanger near the door on top of his own. As he reached down to start working at his pants he stopped, looked contemplative for a moment, and seeming to have reached some kind of conclusion, reached a hand into the coat, producing a large bottle of vodka and a whip. As Ivan proceeded his undressing, Toris slipped over to the small bed, wondering how well it was going to hold up against Ivan's body mass. He tested it a few times, pushing his body weight against it. When he looked up again, he found himself staring into the soft, chubby features and jumped back in surprise. All this couldn't be healthy for his heart.

Ivan slipped under the covers, choosing the side closest to the wall and lay on his back, looking up expectantly with the sheets pulled up to his chin.

"You left your scarf on," Toris commented, making a motion to his own neck.

"I like it."

"O-okay…" he replied nervously. An awkward silence stood between them for a moment, Ivan's pale eyes smiling up at Toris as he tried to ignore them. "I have to go to the bathroom. Excuse me-"

"Lay down." The voice was strong and demanding, enforced by an iron strong grip around his arm. Biting his lip, Toris sank onto the bed, pulling the covers over himself. If he pretended that he fell right asleep-

A large hand cupped his chin. With his eyes squeezed shut, Toris felt the large man shifting onto his side, and was unable to ignore the strong reek of alcohol as he felt the hot breath against his neck. He cracked one eye just enough to confirm his senses. Ivan's face was just next to his on the single shared pillow. He shut his eye once again. Suddenly he felt something tugging on his earlobe, wet and warm and… oh God, there it was. His groin began pulsing uncontrollably. Go away, go away, he pleaded silently, then cried out as a sharp pain hit him. His eyes snapped open and he looked over at Ivan, a tiny speck of blood on his lower lip.

"I knew you were still awake. Oh no, you're bleeding."

"You've got some on you.""Where?"

Toris shifted onto his own side, one finger carefully wiping away the small imperfection on Ivan's barely parted lips, not even chapped because of the weather. In fact, they were quite soft. Before he knew what his body was doing, he found his own lips pressed against those of the man who he hated… most of the time, his shameless lust overcoming the mind numbing fear.

A wet tongue met his own as Ivan used one arm to pull the nation closer to his body, not meeting any surprises. He knew which buttons to hit. When they were pressed as close together as possible, Ivan surrendered the arm to a different cause, sliding it down the smooth skin to the soft cushion of Toris' cheeks, squeezing them gently. Toris moaned in response, and Ivan felt him tense and shudder under his touch.

"You taste terrible," Toris panted breathlessly as he pulled away from the passionate kiss.

"That's not very nice if you to say. But not to worry, I'll teach you some discipline." The hand that rested on Toris' butt tightened its grip as one finger wiggled its way into the crevasse. Toris made a small sound before catching himself, but couldn't prevent the shiver that ran throughout his body and the small gasp that accompanied it. But suddenly the hand pulled itself away, leaving a cold spot on his skin. He hated all this teasing.

"Don't stop," he pleaded guiltily. How he could hate this man, but oh how much he needed him at the same time. Ivan threw off the blankets, revealing the whip that rested near his feet.

"Children who can't behave need to be taught manners," he said, his voice growing icy as he tugged at the whip he now held in his hands. The look that Ivan gave him- the one full of madness, lust, and everything in between- sent Toris' pulse racing. There he sat, completely exposed and at the mercy of a psychopath with quite a history. The thought excited him more than it should have. After all, he was lucky that he wasn't already dead.

Ivan slid to the end of the bed and stood up, towering over the helpless nation, and cracked the whip once for good measure. Toris screamed as the whip came down across his flesh, leaving burning red marks across the arms that had come up to block it. The once calm smile had turned into a wide, toothy grin as Ivan sent it flying again, striking the nation diagonally across the chest. The screaming, the blood, the tears forming in Toris' eyes as he cried for mercy; it was unbelievably exhilarating. The ends of the scarf flew behind Ivan in a wild frenzy much like his own. There was very little on the earth that could put a halt to his bloodlust once it had set in.

When he was satisfied he dropped the weapon on the side of the bed and rubbed his sore arm. Poor Toris was covered in gashes and blood again, looking only half alive with his eyes closed and head tilted back, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. It looked painful. Though it had taken a few strikes, Toris had eventually began screaming for more. It was Ivan who decided he was finished when his arm ached and the sheets were stained crimson. But he had pleased his Toris, and that pleased him.

Laying down next to the panting, shaking body, Ivan pulled the nation close once more, careful of the wounds he himself had inflicted. Gently licking one cheek, Ivan savored the salty taste on his tongue before he felt Toris plant a soft kiss on his mouth.

"Sometimes I don't think even I know how much I need you," Toris whispered. His voice was shot, his throat raw and dry from the screaming. Ivan nodded, brushing the smaller nation's hair from his face, finding it sticky with body juices.

"Just rest. You're tired," cooed Ivan, as he lovingly snuggled against Toris who relaxed completely in his arms. "We'll get you cleaned up in the morning."

* * *

_More or less just a bit of drabble over my newest OTP. Liet, you dirty nation you. And Ivan, so delightfully sadistic. _


End file.
